“Of course you won’t, because you are a smart guy,” she said loftily.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you're fully aware that you didn't marry a puppet on a string.”
He opened his mouth to say something to her when he felt a tap on his shoulder.
“I think it's time to share the beautiful bride,” Sal told him mildly.
“Saved by the bell,” he told her with a grin as he planted a kiss on her lips. “Later, darling.”
“The boy looks happy,” Sal murmured as he took her into his arms.
“I'm happy, and I feel wonderful I'm married to the man I love.”
He nodded and glanced over her head at the couple on the dance floor. “I never thought I would see the day when Mason looked so at peace with the world. He really loves her.”
“I had my doubts, but you're right, he loves her.”
“So, all is right with the world.”
“Please don't say that. Whenever someone says that, something bad happens.”
Sal grinned down at her. “Be happy, honey, this is your day and you both deserve it.” He kissed her on her forehead. “Your pa would have been mighty proud of you.”
“That's the only gloom on my day,” she told him a little tearfully. “That he isn't here to see me.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I strongly believe that he's watching over you.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Now, here comes that husband of yours. The man cannot stay away from you for a minute.” Sal grumbled.
“Oh, I don’t know. It’s been more than a minute,” Amy said with a grin.
“I want to show you something,” Lance said, taking her hand.
“I thought I'd already seen it.”
“Pervert,” he muttered with a grin. “Come on.”
*****
“We're going on your horse?” Amy eyed the animal uncertainly as it pawed at the ground.
“It's the only way to get to where I want to show you.” Lance stared at her for a moment and wondered if she should chance it. She was almost nine months pregnant and it showed. Besides, he was the one who'd told her emphatically that she should not be riding anymore for now! “I'll make sure that you do not fall,” he added.
“Okay.” She took his hand and he guided her foot into the stirrup, making sure that it was secure enough for her to swing her leg onto the back of his horse.
“Hold on,” he ordered as vaulted onto behind her with the effortless ease. Bending his head, he kissed the back of her neck, sending shivers racing up and down her spine before gathering the reins in his hands, his arms brushing against her belly. He pulled at the reins gently, easing Jet into an easy canter.
“You don’t have to hold back on my account,” she told him as she leaned back against his broad chest.
“I'm holding back on our son’s account,” he murmured. She closed her eyes briefly as the wind whistled against her skin.
“We left our own wedding reception. Isn’t that rude?”
“We're entitled to be alone.” He guided the horse carefully up a rocky patch of land. Amy felt the change in terrain and opened her eyes to see the wild beauty of a section she'd never seen before. Flowers grew riotously everywhere, and trees shrouded the path, giving it a kind of eerie look that reminded her of horror movies!
“Where are we?”
“The original home of my grandfather and grandmother.” He pointed to the small cottage that was revealed as they picked their way further onto the path.
“How come I've never been here before?” Amy asked as they drew nearer to the whitewashed building.
Lance pulled at the reins and Jet came to a halt immediately. “I wanted to save it for now.” He dismounted and gently helped her down, keeping her hand in his firmly as they made their way towards the cottage. “I used to come here when I need to think. It is peaceful and quiet, and I love that not a lot of people know about it.” He guided her up the steps and pushed the door open. “I had it remodeled a year ago but managed to retain the original structure. I thought we could do with some alone time since we won't be able to go on a honeymoon just yet. What do you think?”
“I think that it's a great idea, but you should have allowed me to take some clothes with me,” Amy murmured as she looked around the simple and cozy living room.
“Way ahead of you,” he told her with a grin. “I had the housekeeper pack a bag for both of us and Giles sent some of the food in case we got hungry. There's also a bottle of Costa Light in the fridge.”
She turned to look at him. “You're kind of amazing, aren’t you?”
“Just kind of?” He took her hand and led her towards the kitchen where there was an old range stove in the corner. The fridge was new, and the countertop was a contemporary granite that shone in the light. “Are you hungry?”
“I could eat several slices of that delicious chicken and some of the baby potatoes,” she told him as he led her towards the deep cushioned chair in the corner of the room.
“I'm here to serve,” he told her as he went to the counter where the packages were. He took off his jacket and loosened his tie, sliding it off and putting both carelessly onto the back of the chair, near to him.
“Have I told you how handsome you looked in that suit?” she asked him softly as he started to take the meal out.
He glanced at her wryly, his green eyes amused. “You're the only person who could get me in a suit. I was almost choking from the restriction.”
“Aren’t you going to have to wear one for Mason’s wedding?” she teased.
He grimaced as he placed the slices of chicken onto the plates. “Please don’t remind me.”
“He seems different.”
“Who? Mason?”
“Yes.” Amy eased her feet out of her flat shoes and wriggled her toes. “More approachable and less creepy.”
“He's in love.”
“It’s weird to think that he's marrying my best friend. I always resented him a little for the way he treated you, as if you were the one who put the stipulations in the will.”
“We're past that now.” He brought over the meal to place on the table in front of her. He went back to get the wine and pulling up a chair, joined her. “Aunt Rebecca likes Rosemarie a lot and I've never seen her happier.”
“She's getting a daughter and a grandchild.” Amy picked up the chicken in her hand, not bothering with the fork. The sunlight streaming through the window, caught the rings on her finger and sent dazzling fire shooting all over the room. He took her hand in his and examined the rings he'd placed onto her finger for a moment before looking at her. “My wife,” he said huskily. “Mrs. Lance Ethan Billings.”
“Or Amy Reanna Billings,” she told him dryly.
“It doesn't matter how you put it,” he told her huskily. “You're my wife and I cannot believe that the day is finally here.”
“I can believe it.” She watched as he lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “I love you Lance.”